Practice
by PeacockBlue
Summary: A series of oneshots. Basically what I thought Kurt would have had on his mind after the Candles 'practice' session if Blaine tried to get an unscheduled practice in, and the mildly awkward and definitely humorous situations it would lead to. Yeah, fail summary. Just read.
1. Chapter 1

"Kurt! C'mon, we should practise!"

Kurt looked up from the textbook he was using to revise, face red. "Blaine!" he exclaimed, mildly scandalised. "Everyone's outside! They could _hear_ us!"

His boyfriend held out the sheet music. "And that's an issue because…?"

"Oh," Kurt drew the syllable out longer than it normally would be. "I thought you meant _practise_, not _practise_-practise,"

"Well, now that you mention it," the other boy smirked and, leaning in-

-Was swatted away by a small pile of worksheets. "I have a test to revise for, Blaine. And you're not helping!"

"_Kurt_!" he whined.

"No means _no_, Blaine, and unless you're a great authority on quadratic functions, no offense, but _out_." he pointed, holding up even to the infamous Blaine Anderson Puppy Dog Eyes as said boy, disappointed, left.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, Kurt! Want to meet in the choir room to sneak some practice in before Glee club?"

Kurt could not believe his ears. Blaine was suggesting they do _that_ in the sacred ground of the Warblers?

"B-blaine," His face matched almost exactly the highlights on his blazer. "The others would _kill_ us if they knew!"

"Why? As the two lead singers for Regionals, we have to be pitch perfect. And any Warbler can use the room, so long as they've cleared it with the Council – ohhh…" He smirked. "Why, Mr Hummel, I am shocked that you would think that I would _ever_ suggest something like that in the choir room! The next-door broom closet, however…"

Kurt gently hit the other boy over his gelled head with a large pad of paper. "Blaine!" he whined, trying to avoid looking at those perfect lips. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Laugh at me." No matter what anyone may say, he would forever deny any and all accusations of pouting, even at gun point. "And no, Blaine – unless you feel like explaining to Mr Christie just why, exactly, I couldn't finish my in-depth analysis of the religious imagery used in Act One of Othello?"

_Damn._


	3. Chapter 3

It was a Saturday and Blaine had gone to the Hummel-Hudson household to spend some quality time with his adorable new boyfriend. Not much had happened so far, just Blaine being given the _talk_ by Burt (made one hundred times worse by the fact that Blaine had pushed him into talking to his innocent son about, horror of horrors, _sex_ not too long ago) while Kurt was berating Finn for his outfit in another room, , Finn threatening Blaine should her ever hurt his 'younger' step-brother when said step-brother was out of the way, telling his father off for terrifying Blaine, and Carole finally taking mercy on him by sending both of them up to Kurt's room after having pressed a hot mug of tea into Blaine's quivering hands.

Suddenly, Blaine felt compelled to speak, most likely due to Finn's enthusiastic engagement with whatever shoot-'em-up video game he was losing to at the time. "So, Kurt. Do you want to do something? We could go out for coffee or go shopping, or maybe even practice our duet; we've not really been able to recently, what with one thing and another."

"_My father and step-brother are just downstairs!_" he hissed. "Are you _insane_? Or have you simply forgotten their attempts to traumatise you?" he took one look at Blaine's face, and realisation came. "Ah. You, uh, meant actual singing practice." Kurt shot a sharp look at his boyfriend (And how thrilled he felt to be able to call him that!) "Don't say a _word_, Blaine Warbler Anderson. Not. One. Word."

"This is me, not saying anything," he was doing his best to look innocent, mercilessly sending the infamous puppy eyes in Kurt's direction.

Kurt contemplated the other boy for a moment. "I believe you said something about shopping and coffee?"

_**Okay, confession time. I have had this blu-tacked on my wall to be typed up for about two weeks now. Heartfelt apologies, etc., etc…**_

_**And, uh, the next one (also fully written in my drunken-spider scrawl) is currently in a very similar position. Please don't judge me!**_


	4. Chapter 4

There was a lull in the Warblers' twice-weekly practice and the swell of chatter that replaced the regimented harmonising perfectly concealed a vaguely flirty conversation between the couple that had caused so many headaches until the two had finally realised their love for each other.

"So Kurt, want to grab a coffee later?"

"Gaga, yes."

Blaine raised one tri-brow. "'Gaga', Kurt?"

They were interrupted by the sound of Wes's gavel which also cut through the gossiping of the assembled boys. Later on, Kurt would reflect that they gossiped as much – or possibly even more than – the girls at McKinley. At that time, however, he was somewhat distracted by the question being posed both to him and Blaine.

"How is the duet going? Have you been practicing regularly?"

Kurt and Blain, minds both headed down on the route of their first 'practice' session, flushed deeply. Of course, their kind, sensitive and, above all, _supportive_ best friends pounced on this opportunity for public humiliation like a group of teenage girls on the last chocolate biscuit. In that group Warblers' practice, not much singing was done, but the room was filled with sound nonetheless.

_**Yes, I know. I took forever to type this up. In my defence, though, I did lose the sheet with this written down on it. Heart attack over, though; as you can see, I found it!**_

_**Only one more of these and then I shall end it. This can only be dragged on for so long before it becomes stale(r)/(more) repetitive. I cannot be the only person who has done this!**_

_**For the last one, I think I'll hold a little competition. The person who PMs me the most interesting/fun scenario will have that as the final chapter and I shall credit him/her in the AN. I'll need at least 5 entries, though, so it could take some time…**_


End file.
